


Disintegration

by Linspoppa



Series: So Far So Good [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Consent, F/M, Femmes with spikes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tactile Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linspoppa/pseuds/Linspoppa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arcee and Prowl bump into an obstacle during their first frag, one stemming from issues the pink warrior tries her hardest to suppress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disintegration

**Author's Note:**

> I never expected to fall for this pairing, yet here I am.
> 
> Warning for a brief issue of consent mid-interface. They could've avoided it by talking, but neither Arcee nor Prowl are used to intimacy.

"Let's frag."

There was a sputtering sound from the sofa modules. Apparently Prowl had the unfortunate timing of ingesting energon during her question.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You. Me. Clanging codpieces together." Arcee streched with a smirk. "Should be an easy task for your processors."

He turned from his perch. "It's not the proposal that has me bewildered. I have to ask... why me?"

The pink femme rose from her pose against the wall and sauntered over to him.

"You are decent company and not too shabby on the optics. Plus, I've got an old itch that needs to be scratched."

She was now leaning against the back of the sofa. He mulled over the proposal for a nanoklik before coming to a conclusion.

"So what would you prefer?"

Mirth filled the glow of her optics. "This is not a business negotiation, dear Prowler. You let things take their turn and try to follow."

He frowned slightly, but did not argue against her. Instead offering a hand for her to take. Snickering she accepted it, hopping over the backrest and landing with a thump on the cushion beside him. Face to face, she swiftly grasped his helm and pressed their mouths together.

The kiss was forceful and rushed, Arcee eagerly mapping out his buccal cavity while Prowl tried to lower the pace, slowly but with purpose tasting her and tangling their glossas.

He didn't notice hands wandering until the concave shape of his chest was fondled by the listless femme, leering as she pulled away. "I do love a nice, big hood."

"You have a hood as well."

"Not as generous in size as yours." She curled nimble fingers inside the grille, feeling his ventilations quicken. Her right hand began to circle the headlights, stroking and wandering across the expanse of his chest armor.

Not keen on sitting there like a lost sparkling, Prowl reached around her to trace the pinnacles on her back, admittedly finding them appealing. Figuring that grounders had similar sensitivity, he went for the tyres strapped to the spires. One hand followed the pattern of a hubcap while the other spinned the rim. She muffled a moan and leaned up to suck at the tip of his chevron, licking down the edge, teeth nipping delicately.

Prowl craned his neck to reach a pink and white audial. Arcee teetered above him when lips ghosted over yellow vents, biolights flickering in sensual displays. Sudden stimuli to his doorwings registered across the sensornet, her sneaky digits having found the glass panels and scratching invisible patterns across the surface.

The black and white officer locked gaze with the sleeker grounder, searching her expression.

"I want to-"

"Just get on with it."

Prowl blinked blue optics before easing down onto his abdomen, Arcee scooting backwards before he gently spread the round thighs.

He began mouthing at the inner side, tracing transformation seams and teasing the wiring where loin met armor. He pulled up one leg to rest over his shoulder, lavishing the femme beneath him in attention. Marking a path across her plating, his lips finally met the codpiece, now hatched open and displaying the interface covers. Moving southward, he let his glossa make contact with the thin metal, valve just inches beyond.

The silky touch had her both jerking into the sensation and shying away, body torn between emotions.

He paused between her legs, face hidden by her codpiece. The pink femme directed a confused glare down at him.

"You're awfully tense. Should I stop?"

"Don't...!" She grit her dentae, pointedly switching her glare to the cushion. "I'm not a glitchmouse in the berth, just-"

Prowl frowned, getting up on his elbows. "Then what is the problem?"

"I don't like handing over control to another bot."

"Yet you told me to get on with it."

Arcee reluctantly met his gaze. "Well excuse me, princess! Some of us have a reputation to keep up."

"That includes enduring unwanted activities?"

That was most definitely not a pout donning pink faceplates. No, sir.

A dark hand stroke her forearm. "I have an idea."

* * *

This was the best compromise for the moment. Lying prone with his hands cuffed above the armrest, Prowl found himself with a mouthful of Arcee's dripping valve, grinding roughly against him. She was straddling his head and emitting soft groans of approval.

He swirled his glossa around the external node, alternating between gentle laps that had the femme cursing his designation and rough brushes that earned him fingers clawing like mad at the cushions below them. What the poor furniture had done to deserve such spite was unknown.

_:Enjoying yourself?:_ with his mouth occupied, Prowl opted for speaking in comm.

"Frag yeah," she moaned out loud, hips undulating like a tidal wave of lust and yearning. "Better... than I remembered. Haven't -guh- interfaced in a decavorn."

_:Same for me...:_

He was unpractised, but playing with the weeping valve felt increasingly natural. Circling the node one last time, he pushed his glossa inside the core, feeling the tangy, acerbic taste of lubricant as new gushed out onto his chin. Pressing against the roof resulted in a full-body shiver, his quarters echoing with the roaring of fans. He prodded a cluster by the front and proceeded to plunge his glossa in and out with vigor.

Having had enough, the pink femme wretched herself from his hood and onlined her optics, now dimmed a molten amber. For a split nanoklik she appeared vulnerable in the glow of the moon.

"Time for our main show", Arcee said breathlessly, spike cover irising open as she spoke.

The spike was longer than your average but tapered off towards the tip, curved in an arch and covered in cilia.

A twinge of curiosity in his doorwings. "Is that an upgrade?"

She nodded. "Funny fellow, right? Got it modded at a clinic before the Functionists ruled variation in sticky equipment as deviance." A wiggle of her hips. "The cilia act as electrical transmitters through lubricant, creating a charge."

Prowl swallowed in interest. "I haven't interfaced with someone sporting this mod..."

"Aww, I'm your first? How flattering." Lunging forward, Arcee grabbed his hips and turned him onto his abdomen and knees, jerking Prowl backwards until aft met rigid protometal. "Don't worry, I promise to make this unforgettable."

Jaw hitting the mattress, the mech cast a dubious look across his shoulder. "I'd appreciate seeing your face."

"Mmmnope." The cilia caused friction as she rubbed the spike over his folds. "Now relax and let ol' Arcee do the job."

That was the final straw for Prowl's crumbling patience. With leg sensors still activated he reared a pede backwards, kicking Arcee in the thigh.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"The blatant disrespect you're showing your berthmate. You have to listen to my preferences as well."

Worrying her lower lip between dentae, the retort was apprehensive: "Didn't you listen? I don't-"

"-Like it unless you're in control. Noted. But that doesn't rule out communicating and compromising during interface. I find no appeal in staring at a wall."

She gingerly positioned him so the blue beam of his optics could scrutinize her.

"I'm not him. You have autonomy now. But you can't simply give and take without care for others."

Arcee's face was blank. It never occurred to him before how distant the femme grew when immersed in thoughts.

She rocked back on her pedes, crouching before him. "Such insightful words, and they're uttered by a bot in stasis cuffs."

Prowl replied with a roll of optics. At least her humor was back.

"Well, I must be able to work with the circumstances. Now will you 'face me or do I have to self-service?"

"You said it's been a decavorn for you too! I should prep-"

"Get on with it already." The hint of a smirk, optical ridge raising in challenge.

She stared at him, seemingly at a loss for words before her face split into a wicked grin.

Angling herself with his valve, Arcee thrust forward, breaching the rim. Heat and wetness enveloped her, and it was all she could do to muffle a gasp. Settling inside to the base, she marvelled at how he was just snug enough, velvety mesh caressing the spike with every minute shift. There was a brief pause for Prowl to accommodate her girth before hips snapped into motion.

It didn't take long to find a steady rhythm. The roughness of the pace had Arcee slamming into nodes far back, making him wordlessly twist and turn beneath her, legs wrapping around her midsection in a strong grasp. Rolling his hips, Prowl met her thrust for thrust.

The multiple cilia flirted with every node lining his inner walls, miniscule sparks sending his sensornet into a frenzy of pleasure. Prowl could feel a charge slowly building up in his circuitry, scorching heat spreading from his interface array all the way to his digits.

"Too overwhelmed for speech by my spike?" She panted, each word punctuated by her pistoning hips, relishing in the smooth ripple of calipers.

Blue optics were glowing with lust. "You're not so... composed... either...!"

Hefting his aft higner and bracing a pede onto the floor, Arcee escalated her efforts to fulfil that question. She plunged deeper and slower, dragging out groan after groan from below. The friction was setting Prowl ablaze, his processors working at high capacity to analyze each brush of thousands of cilia. There wasn't much he could manage in this position, simply clenching and unclenching his legs. Not long until he would be carried over the edge... His hand wandered subconsciously down his pelvic plating and found the spike unfurled, transfluid gathering.

Said hand got slapped away before it was able to close around the shaft. Arcee replaced it with her own, pumping in time with her thrusts.

The dual attention had Prowl shouting her designation, back bowed and body spasming uncontrollably. The snug fit grew taut as calipers cycled, Arcee's movement now restricted. She grit her denta in bliss, thrusts growing more erratic by the klik and pressure reaching a peak inside her before cresting.

Currents of electricity filled his very being, racing like a storm through circuits and whitening out his vision, purple lubricant spurting out around the shaft. A sharp keen escaped his vocalizer, rising in pitch until past audial tolerance. The femme, in contrast, only released a spark-deep sigh.

Backstruts loosening up, the officer slumped onto the sofa as his partner eased down his legs. Their vents expelled heat at a rate not fast enough.

"So..." pulling out from the dripping valve, she fixed him with an inquiring gaze. "Arrange for a replication of tonight's event?"

Prowl had to reboot his optics before her face registered. "Future arrangements accepted."


End file.
